Born This Way
by Ry-Rain
Summary: Santana never thought this was how the day would end. *FEMSLASH*
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me. They belong to Fox and RIB.  
>Spoilers: Anything up to the Born This Way episode.<br>A/N: I don't really plan on bringing this that far. I'm thinking one or two more chapters (the next of which is in the works already.)

Chapter One

Santana Lopez sat in her car, staring out the windshield. Glee had been over for about an hour now, but the Latina had yet to leave the school parking lot. She really didn't want to go home. Her parents had been acting weird since she quit the Cheerios, but she couldn't understand why. They never really liked Coach Sylvester, seeing as they were doctors and her training techniques were insane, and she had quit to keep her best friend from being blown out of a fucking cannon (and most likely killed).

The Latina jumped as she was brought out of her thoughts by someone knocking on the passenger side window. She turned to glare at the intruder when she saw Rachel Berry standing outside, her 'Born This Way' shirt soaked through, revealing what appeared to be a black bra. Santana hadn't even noticed that it had started raining. Sighed, she rolled the window down. "What do you want Berry?" she asked the scared looking diva.

"I'm sorry to bother you Santana, but I couldn't help but notice that you were here and its raining, well, you see, my father called and I don't have an umbrella-"

"Spit it out Smurfette!"

"Could you give me a ride home?" the singer rushed out in one breath. Santana frowned, then turned and started rummaging in the back seat. Rachel took this as a no and sighed. "It was worth a shot," she muttered to herself then shook her head. "Thanks anyway," she said a little louder then walked away.

The former cheerleader grinned as she found an old towel she had been looking for and turned to the window. Her grin fell as she saw Rachel was gone. "Where the hell she go?" Throwing the towel into the passenger seat, Santana started her car as she looked around to see if the small diva was still in the parking lot. She wasn't really sure why the thought of the girl walking home in the rain bothered her, but it did. She pulled out of the parking lot and started toward the Berry's house. "Damn she walks fast," Santana exclaimed as she turned down a street, bringing her about halfway to Rachel's house, and finally spotting her. Pulling up beside the girl, Santana rolled her window down. "What the fuck Berry? I thought you wanted a ride home?"

The singer stopped and turned toward the car, wrapping her arms tighter around herself. "I d-d-did," she answered.

"Could have fooled me, considering when I turned around after finding a towel to put on the seat, you were gone." Rachel looked at Santana, wondering if she was understanding correctly. "Well, get your tiny ass in the car before I change my mind!"

Rachel looked both ways before around the car. She hesitated for a second before reaching for the door handle and climbing inside. "T-t-thank you," she stuttered, watching the other girl turn up the heat.

"Don't mention it," Santana grumbled as she pulled back into traffic and toward Rachel's house again. She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, watching the shivering girl out of the corner of her eye. "What happened to your jacket?" she asked.

"Slushie," Rachel answered. It was then the Latina noticed a bluish tint to the crew neck of the girl's shirt. "I hate blue raspberry."

Santana chuckled. "Right, your favorite is grape," she said as she pulled into the Berry's driveway.

"How'd you-?"

"Puck." Rachel nodded as Santana put the car in park. The two sat in silence, watching the wipers work to keep the windshield clear. "I'm glad you decided not to get a nose job."

Rachel found herself staring at the other girl, once again wondering if she heard right. "T-thank you," she stuttered, this time more out of shock then cold. Santana just shrugged, keeping her eyes focused straight ahead. The diva unbuckled, not sure what to do and figuring she'd be kicked out any second now. "Do you want to come in?" she asked, surprising herself, but what was even more surprising was the Latina's answer.

"Yea, I'd like that."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Oh wow you guys! I did not expect such a big response to the first chapter. Thank you everyone who reviewed, alerted and favorited this story! This chapter is a little longer than the first. I'm not feeling as good about it as the last one, but I couldn't figure out a way to change it without making it worse. Hope its not a total disappointment.**

* * *

><p>Rachel rushed through the pouring rain from the Latina's car and to her front porch, quickly unlocking the door and holding it open for Santana. The former Cheerio smirked from the car as she reached into the back seat once again and grabbed an umbrella. She slowly made her way out of the car and to where the diva was waiting for her.<p>

"Nice dash there Berry. Ever consider joining the track team?" Rachel blushed as she closed the door behind the two of them. "So, why were you walking home?" Santana asked.

"My father had an emergency at work and was unable to come pick me up. My car is at Kurt's dad's shop," Rachel answered, kicking her shoes off. "Do you want something to drink?"

"Water's fine," Santana answered, looking around the Berry's living room. It was obvious Rachel's parents really cared about the girl. All the pictures seemed to be of them with her or just her. There were a few shots of Rachel with various other people, some obviously cast shots from different productions and a few glee group shots. Santana smiled as she looked at one from sectionals. The group was all backstage, laughing at something, probably one of Brittany's random comments.

"That's probably my favorite picture of all of us," Rachel said as she came up behind the taller girl. "You were amazing that day, by the way. I don't know if I ever actually told you that."

Santana wasn't sure why, but the shorter girl's compliment made her blush. "Thanks, but that goes without saying," she said, trying to cover her embarrassment. "Anyway, you're duet with Quinn was pretty good the other day."

"Thank you," the diva said, bowing her head and handing the other girl a bottle of water. "I wasn't really expecting you to accept my offer to come in."

Santana shrugged as she toyed with the cap on her bottle. "I'm a little surprised myself about that," she replied before looking at the girl. "Jesus Berry, you're shivering and your lips almost look blue!"

"I am a little cold still," Rachel said.

"Well, go change into some dry clothes already." The shorter girl looked up, a curious expression on her face. "I won't leave," Santana said softly.

Rachel nodded and headed toward the staircase. "The remote should be in the box on the coffee table, make yourself comfortable."

The former Cheerio sat on the couch, continuing to look around the room. Well the house was homey, the Berry's were definitely well off. There was a huge television hanging on the wall, what appeared to be state of the art stereo, Blu-Ray player and all the game consoles. She didn't see any movies or video games, at least not in plain sight. There was also a baby grand piano in the corner.

"Are you cold?"

Santana jumped as Rachel came up behind her. "No, why do you ask?"

The tiny brunette walked around the couch and curled up on the other end. She had changed into a pair of baggy sweatpants and a long sleeve "Wicked" shirt. "You haven't taken off your jacket," she answered. Santana looked down at herself and shrugged. She wasn't sure she wanted to answer any questions about her shirt, especially since she hadn't performed with the group. "I saw you in the seats, Santana, with Karofsky."

"So? We're dating, Berry. Why wouldn't I sit with him?"

"Why weren't you performing with us? I saw you earlier in the day, and while I thought your 'bitch' shirt was a bit of a cop out, I don't understand you not wanting to perform."

Santana sighed, she was really starting to regret staying. "Look, Berry, just, drop it, please?" she asked, fiddling with the zipper on her leather jacket. "I'm sorry, but what you're asking is why I didn't want to perform. I didn't want to talk about it."

Rachel frowned. "That doesn't make sense Santana. You're a self proclaimed bitch, you take it as a compliment when others call you a bitch."

"My shirt doesn't say 'bitch,' okay Rachel?"

"You called me Rachel."

"That's your name, isn't it?" the Latina scoffed.

"Well, yes, but you-you've never really used it before," Rachel stammered, confused at the sudden change. "You usually use my last name or some offensive nickname that masculinizes me."

"Right, well, we're sitting in your house right now, so I figured I'd play nice."

"Or you thought it would throw me completely off the topic of you not performing." Santana sighed. That was exactly what she was hoping to do. "What could your shirt possible say, that you would be embarrassed to perform with the rest of the group?" The Latina thought about it, if there was anyone who wouldn't make a big deal about her sexuality, it would be the girl with two dads. She unzipped her jacket and pointed to the letters emblazoned across her chest. "Lebanese? I thought you were Hispanic?"

Santana rolled her eyes. "Britts made it for me."

"O-kay," Rachel said, still confused on what was so embarrassing about the shirt. It would have been easily explained by saying Brittany made it.

"She meant it to say ... something else."

"Something else?"

"Yea," Santana whispered, standing up. She looked around the room again, looking at the pictures. She noticed a small picture, pushed to the back of a shelf. It was of Rachel with another girl, the two of them standing in Times Square. "Who's this?" she asked, holding the frame up.

Rachel blushed. "A friend," she answered, avoiding eye contact. "Quit trying to change the subject."

"Quid pro quo?"


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Sorry this one took so long. I came to regret including the little picture snippet with how hard it was to get this scene written, but I hope you all enjoy. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, alerted and favorited this story. I initially thought it would only be three chapters, but I have at least one more left.

* * *

><p><em>"Quid pro quo?"<em>

Rachel looked at the Latina standing in her living room, honestly considering agreeing to her request. Something was obviously up with the other girl, what with her not joining the club in the Gaga performance and then accepting the invitation to stay. Also, she actually seemed willing to talk, and with Rachel at that, but she wanted something in return, as usual for her. At the same time, the diva never expected Santana to find that picture, especially with it pushed so far back on the shelf. She's still not sure why its even still there instead of put in a box with the rest of her exes' things.

"So?"

Rachel sighed. "Fine, but you start. I mean, I did ask first."

Santana sighed as well, but figured the tiny singer was right. "Brittany can't spell, or well, I guess she could have just thought this was the actual word," she said, unzipping her jacket and staring down at the letters emblazoned across her chest. She stood next to the couch, her hip against the arm. "She meant to put ... lesbian."

"Okay, that still doesn't explain why you didn't perform with us."

Santana frowned. "Um, I'm wearing a shirt that is suppose to say I'm a lesbian, why would I perform in front of people?"

"Well, you could have just lied to everyone, or said Brittany made it for you," Rachel offered. "I love Britt, she's a sweet girl and I would never call her anything offensive, but saying that, we all know she has her quirks. Everyone would have just smiled and let it be."

"I know you want to say something else."

"Well, yes."

"Spit it out Rachel," Santana growled.

"Um, it wouldn't really come as a surprise to most, if not all of the club," Rachel said quickly. "I mean, we all know you and Brittany were more than just friends, or friends with benefits I guess." Santana sighed. "Although, I can see how knowing we all think we know is better than knowing we all know for sure."

"Yea, well, now you know why I didn't perform. Your turn."

"I have more questions though," Rachel argued. She still didn't know why Santana was actually here.

"You have to answer one of my questions first, Berry." Rachel hesitantly nodded and waved for the former Cheerio to continue. "Who is she?"

"I told you."

"No, I want more details than just 'a friend'," Santana said. "You don't answer like you did when a person is just a friend, and you don't have a picture of them pushed out of eyesight."

"She ... I met her at summer camp before sophomore year," Rachel answered, bringing her feet up on the couch and wrapping her arms around her legs. "Her name's Alicia. We, well, we dated for the whole summer and the first couple of weeks of the school year, until her father got transferred and they moved, without her even saying goodbye. That picture is from a trip we took with the camp."

"But, you dated Finn, Puck and Jesse."

"I'm bisexual Santana."

"Why aren't you out?"

Rachel scoffed. "Why aren't you out? People at school fear you. Why do you care how they'd react?"

"I'm not the daughter of two gay men," Santana yelled, moving to stand in front of the couch, not realizing she didn't deny having anything to come out about.

"You're also not already the constant target of slushies and nicknames," Rachel argued, standing up as well. "Why should I come out when I'm dating a guy? If I were to ever have a girlfriend that attended McKinley, I would proudly walk through the hallways, holding her hand. I would meet her at her locker and kiss her hello. I would dedicate songs to her in glee, even if she wasn't a member. Saying that, why should I add an even bigger target to my back when I've only been in heterosexual relationships as far as everyone at school knows?"

"So, you're hiding who you are, just to make your life easier?" Santana asked.

"Argh!" Rachel screamed before getting right into the Latina's face. "I am not hiding who I am, unlike some people. Have you ever asked me if I was straight or bi? Have you ever heard anyone ask me if I was straight or bi? No. People ask me if I'm gay since I was raised by two gay men, but I'm not gay. There is a difference. If someone said, 'Hey Rachel, are you straight?' I would say no. If they asked if I was bi, I would say yes." Rachel huffed then fell back onto the couch. "Why are you here?"

"You invited me."

The diva rolled her eyes before grabbing Santana's hand, or rather balled up fist, and pulled her down to the couch. "Yes, I invited you in, but that doesn't explain why you actually accepted my invitation."

"I ... I didn't want to go home just yet. That's why I was sitting in the parking lot," the Latina answered, running her hand through her hair.

"And hanging out with Rachel "Man Hands" Berry was your only other option? I doubt that."

"Quinn's house, well, it sucks. She barely wants to be there herself and Britt's, well, she's with Artie."

Rachel watched the other girl, her shoulders hunched over. "Why don't you want to go home?" she asked.

"Why were you pissed Finn slept with me?" Santana countered, it was her turn and no way was she giving the diva an extra question.

"I wasn't really mad about him sleeping with you, I was mad he lied about it and apparently, would have continued to lie about it if you hadn't told me yourself," Rachel answered. "Now, why don't you want to go home?"

"My parents are being weird," Santana said. "We've never been the Brady Bunch or anything, but it almost seems like they're avoiding me. I spend most of my time home locked up in my room alone."

"And you don't know why?"

"No, I know why, but I-I don't want it to be true. I don't want that to be the reason they're being weird."

"Which is?" Rachel asked, getting nothing but a glare. "Fine, ask me a question."

"What if there's nothing else I want to know?" Santana said with a smirk.

"Well, you just asked me a question, so I don't think that really matters at this point," Rachel countered, smirking right back. "Again, why do you think your parents are being weird?"

"They know I'm gay."

"Okay."

"Berry," Santana sighed.

"Sorry, continue."

The Latina laughed, shaking her head. She could believe she was sitting in Rachel Berry's living room, getting as close to pouring her heart out to someone other than Brittany as she could be, without actually doing so. "I don't think they necessary disapprove, I mean, they haven't kicked me out or anything."

"That is a good sign," Rachel said with a nod. "You know, if you ever need a place, even if its just because you feel like you have to get away for a while, you're welcomed here."

"Why?"

"Why what?" Rachel asked.

"Why would you offer me a place to stay when I've been nothing but horrible to you?"

"Was driving me home so I didn't have to walk in the rain a horrible thing?"

"No, but you still ended up walking in the rain, because I didn't answer right away and have a history of being mean to you," Santana answered, refusing to make any kind of eye contact.

"Santana, do you think I would have really asked for a ride if I thought there were no chance you'd actually give me one?" the diva asked, moving closer to the other girl. "Yes, there have been times when you have been downright cruel-"

"Not helping Berry."

"If you would stop interrupting me, it would. Now, as I was saying, sure, there is some bad history, but the taunts and slushies, from you at least, have dwindled since you joined glee and the slushies became non-existent after you quit the Cheerios," Rachel said, gently grabbing the Latina's chin and forcing her to make eye contact. "You've changed Santana, or at least, you let your mask fall in glee. I mean, you've even called me Rachel a couple times today, even if one time was just to throw me off balance."

"You talk too much," Santana commented, thinking to herself how warm the other girls hand was on her face.

"So I've been told," Rachel said, smiling and dropping her hand.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: So, this is basically a filler chapter, with what I hope is seen as some cute interaction between the characters. I know I've said this in the last chapter, but there is (once again) at least one chapter left, which I have already started.

And to the reviewer who asked me to translate "quid pro quo," I'm not really sure what a direct translation would be, but basically, Santana was asking Rachel to do what they did, take turns asking each other questions, so neither of the girls could back out of telling their story.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Four<strong>

Rachel grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. The past few minutes had been pretty intense, but both girls had calmed quickly. Without turning to look at her, the diva started the conversation again. "I meant what I said, you're always welcomed here Santana. I mean, I understand why you wouldn't want to be seen at my house, but-"

"I don't care about that," Santana said, hugging a throw pillow to her chest. "Rachel, you can actually be pretty cool, when you're not bossing people around all the time. Thank you, for the offer."

"Um, thanks and you're welcome," Rachel answered, shocked. "Well ... I, do you want to stay for dinner? When my father called he said he probably wouldn't be back in time and told me to just order something."

"Do I have to eat that vegan shit?"

Rachel chuckled. "No, you can order whatever you want, although I do request that you don't order a ton of meat."

"I was just kidding, I don't really eat that much meat anyway," Santana said. "Especially now that I don't have the insaneness that is Sue and Cheerio's workouts to keep me in shape."

Rachel jumped up and went into the kitchen to grab the phone and take out menus. "So, what do you feel like? Chinese? Thai? Breadstix?"

"Did you really just ask that?" The tiny singer smirked and handed Santana the menu for the Italian place. "What do you want? I'll order cause they'll bring us more breadsticks if the order is from me."

"Vegan lasagna please."

Santana quickly called in their order before stealing the remote. "I'm not watching a musical."

"Warehouse 13 is not a musical," Rachel argued. "It's science fiction."

"You promise its not a musical?" Santana said, playfully glaring as she turned the channel back.

"I promise," the diva answered, holding out her pinkie. The Latina just shook her head and pushed Rachel's hand away. "Its actually about these people who work in a secret-

"Don't care Smurfette, as long as there's no singing." Rachel frowned and leaned away from the other girl. "Rachel, what's wrong?"

"I thought we were past the offensive nicknames, at least since you are in my house," Rachel whispered, trying to hide how much the name had hurt, even after only a short time of being civil.

Santana frowned as well, trying to figure out which of her usual horrible nicknames she used. "I'm sorry, but what did I say?"

"You called me Smurfette."

The other girl chuckled. "So, you're mad I called you after the only female smurf who is known for being beautiful?" Rachel blushed. "Noted."

"Sorry," she whispered, ducking her head, her hair falling in her face.

Santana smiled, sliding closer to the singer. She reached out, pushing the diva's hair away. "Hey, its okay," she said, once she was looking into a pair of brown eyes. "I can see how you'd take it badly, especially since I use to call you a smurf." Santana wiped away a few tears that had fallen. "Now why don't you tell me about this show?" she said then the doorbell rang.

"The British chick is in love with the curly haired chick," Rachel said, watching the Latina's head snap back to the screen as she stood up. "I'll get the food," she continued with a chuckle.

Santana didn't even look away from the TV when Rachel returned, just holding her hand out for her dinner. "Um, so, what's actually going on?"

"Well, I can tell you or I could just run upstairs and get my DVDs of the first two seasons," Rachel said, taking a bite of her lasagna. Santana quirked an eyebrow. "I'll take that as a 'get the DVDs,' hmm?"

"Um, yea."

Rachel laughed before setting down her food and getting up. "Fair warning, no H.G. in the first season."

"Well, hurry it up woman!" Rachel laughed and ran upstairs. Santana shook her head as she dug into her food. "So, you're a closet geek?"

Santana scoffed. "No, but I do like a hot woman with a British accent," she said, throwing a pillow at the other girl. "By the way, where's your other dad?"

"Daddy is away on a business trip this week. He gets back tomorrow," Rachel answered, putting the dvds in the player. "We can probably watch a couple episodes before you have to go."

"Um, could I stay the night?" Santana asked hesitantly.

"Warehouse 13 marathon it is," Rachel said in response, flashing her megawatt smile. "I'll just text my dad and let him know."


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: So, I was trying to get this chapter to you all yesterday, but was being a bitch and wouldn't let me upload. Now, I have some good news and some bad news for ya'll. Good news is I have the next chapter already written and will be uploaded in a couple days. Bad news is its the last chapter.

Anyway, I am beyond stoked at the feedback I've received for this story, with all the reviews, favoriting and alerting. You guys are just awesome.

* * *

><p>Santana looked around Rachel's room as the other girl changed in the en suite bathroom. She hadn't known what to expect when the diva led her upstairs after watching half of the first season of Warehouse 13, but she hadn't expected this. Sure, the room was very girly and the walls were covered in Broadway posters, but there was normal teenage stuff too. Rachel's desk was surprisingly messy, with sheet music and notebooks thrown all over, her laptop sitting haphazardly on top of it all. There were also band posters and a ton of pictures of friends. There were more of glee club and some that were probably at those summer camps she'd been known to attend, including one or two more of the ex-girlfriend.<p>

"Well, I know you're a little taller than me, but I'm sure I have some that'll fit you," Rachel said as she walked back into the room. "What do you like to sleep in? Shorts or pants?"

"Shorts and a tank would be great," Santana answered, turning around just as Rachel reached into a bottom drawer. Her eyes widened as the girl's shirt rode up and then she looked a little lower and held in a gasp. 'Damn, how have I never noticed her like this before?' she thought. She spun back around as Rachel straightened.

"Here you go," she said, handing over the bed clothes. "There's an extra toothbrush on the sink."

"Thanks," Santana said. She walked into the bathroom, shaking her head. It was time to be honest with herself. Tonight wasn't the first time she'd noticed the diva. Rachel was impossible to not notice. She may be small in stature, but she had a huge voice. The Latina had always watched the tiny girl, worried that the other students might push her too far. Sure, she'd thrown a few slushies and called her a few names, but she knew when to stop. Sighing, Santana quickly changed and headed out.

"Is something wrong Santana?"

"Nope, just looking forward to more of the show," she answered, watching Rachel crawl into her bed. "So, when does the British chick come in?"

"Not until the second season," Rachel answered. "I already loaded the next disc into the player. Are you going to stand there all night or get in bed?"

Santana nervously chuckled as she pushed the blankets back then climbed in next to the shorter brunette. "So, let's restart the marathon."

"If you're uncomfortable, I can get an air mattress or a bean bag for you to sit on while watching and then you can just move into the guest room when you're ready for bed," Rachel said, looking down at her hands.

"No, Rach, I'm sorry, I just, the last time I shared a bed with someone, it was Brittany," the former Cheerio admitted.

Rachel rolled onto her side, looking at the other girl. She reached across the space between them and laced her fingers with Santana's. "I'm sorry San, I don't really understand why she's with Artie. I mean, he's a sexist pig most of the time. He treated Tina like crap when they dated and he hasn't always been nice to Brittany before they started dating." Rachel looked at their joined hands, a slight blush reaching her face. "Besides, you're much hotter than him," she mumbled.

Santana blushed at the diva's quiet admission and rolled over, mirroring Rachel. "Thank you," she said. "You're way hotter than Quinn."

Rachel chuckled. "Yea right.

"You are Rachel. Quinn, she's all skin and bones. I mean, we all now know that's not even her nose," Santana argued. "You have a natural beauty. You don't have to wear all the make-up she does."

"Thank you."

"I mean Rachel," Santana urged. "You're beautiful and don't let anyone tell you differently, especially not the idiots at our school."

"Why aren't you like this at McKinley?" the diva asked, trying to ignore that she knew she was blushing. The Latina just shrugged. "Well, I'm glad I get to see this side of you, even if it never happens again."

Santana took a deep breath and lifted their joined hands to her lips, kissing Rachel's knuckles. "It'll happen again, if you don't get sick of me after this weekend, cause, I plan on hanging with you until we've watched all three seasons."

"So, you're only here for the British chick?" Rachel said with a grin.

"Pretty much." Rachel playfully slapped her new friend. Santana grabbed the girls free hand, pulling her closer. "I mean Rachel. We're friends now. You're stuck with me," Santana said.

"Good," Rachel whispered.

Santana noticed the girls eyes kept flicking down and she still had a slight blush on her cheeks. She brought a hand up to Rachel's face, cupping her jaw. "Hey Rach?" she asked, gently forcing the diva to look up.

"Yea?" she whispered, her eyelids fluttering.

"I'm going to kiss you."

"Please do."

Santana smiled softly, pulling Rachel even closer. Her eyes slid close as she leaned in, her lips ghosting along the diva's. It was Rachel who finally crossed the last few centimeters, wrapping her arms around the Latina's neck.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: So, this is the last chapter. Thank you everyone who read this story. I appreciate all the reviews. I could possibly be talked into doing a sequel ... so if you want one, let me know. Enjoy!

* * *

><p>Epilogue<p>

Rachel walked into McKinley, smiling. It had been a month since Santana had spent the whole weekend at the Berry house, watching Warehouse 13 and South of Nowhere. Before she left, the girls talked about what was going to happen at school. Technically, the former Cheerio was dating Karofsky as part of her bid to win prom queen, but she told Rachel that would be over first thing Monday morning. The Latina also asked her to be her girlfriend. Rachel understood they wouldn't be out, she knew Santana was not ready for that. They also figured, it would be even more unbelievable than the sham Santana was in now, considering they weren't even friends and that it might be a little easier for everyone if they started acting friendly in school first.

Even though they were still in the closet as a couple, Rachel couldn't be happier. The diva made her way to her locker, humming a song Santana had got stuck in her head when she'd called that morning. There was nothing that could bring her down, at least, that's what she thought before she saw Finn leaning against her locker, a small bouquet of flowers in his hand. "Finn," she said as the tall boy stood straight.

"Hey Rach," he greeted, thrusting the flowers toward her. "These are for you."

Rachel frowned. "Um, aren't you dating Quinn?"

Finn smiled. "Nope, we broke up. I thought, me and you could get back together." 'You and I' she corrected in her head, still refusing to take the flowers. "Is something wrong Rachel? Are you sick?"

"No, I'm not sick, but thank you for your concern," Rachel answered, turning to her locker and dialing her combination. "Finn, I'm sorry, but I don't think us getting back together would be a good idea."

"Why?" the boy whined.

It took all of the diva's will power to not roll her eyes. "Because Finn, I am seeing someone else."

"Who could you possibly be seeing?"

Rachel spun around and glared at her ex-boyfriend, fighting the urge to slap him by clutching her books to her chest. She was just about to give him a piece of her mind when she felt a pair of slender arms wrap around her waist.  
>"That would be me," Santana stated, resting her head on the shorter girl's shoulder. "So I suggest you back off and stop hitting on my girlfriend."<p>

Finn sputtered, looking between the two. "You're joking right?"

"No, she is not joking Finn," Rachel said. She could just feel her girlfriend's smirk as Finn stood there, staring at them.

"Well as much fun as its been talking to you Finnocence, we're going to be late for class," the Latina said, taking Rachel's books from her and closing her locker. "Come on Smurfette."

"Santana Lopez," Rachel scolded, smacking the girl's arm.

Santana grinned. "Please, you love it when I call you that," she said, lacing her fingers through the diva's and pulling her close, completely forgetting the giant standing next to them. She leaned down and kissed her girlfriend. "New lip gloss," she commented as the kiss broke. Rachel blushed, but smiled and nodded. "Let's get to class babe."

The two girls turned down the hallway, heading toward their first class, their linked hands lightly swinging between them. Neither girl reacted to the loud clang as Finn punched a locker or his almost instantaneous exclamation of pain. They also ignored the stares and whispered words as they passed their fellow students. None of that mattered anymore.


End file.
